


That's Not Holly....

by BiFelicia



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Christmas, Christmas Party, F/F, Fluff, House Party, Humor, Surprise Mistletoe (sort of), Ugly Holiday Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiFelicia/pseuds/BiFelicia
Summary: 'One thing Lena’s not particularly looking forward to is the end of her Poetry class in two weeks. Which is genuinely shocking, because she’d fought tooth and nail to be allowed to do… literally anything else, to no avail. And it’s not really that she’s developed a deep appreciation for and understanding of poetry- it’s still all the door was fucking blue to her. No, it’s more that she’s developed a deep appreciation for a girl in her class.But really, honestly, it’s not her fault. Like, first of all, who even looks like that? She’s seen the girl eat in the dining hall- she has no right to.... ripple like that. And the always perfectly windblown hair, and the eyes -god. God, she’s gay. Gay and useless.'orLena has a crush on her classmate, and no earthly idea what festive plants look like.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 99
Kudos: 990





	That's Not Holly....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlemousejelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemousejelly/gifts).



> Happy belated birthday to my bud, littlemousejelly. I was asked for surprise mistletoe.  
> I improvised....

Lena Luthor does _not_ hate Christmas.

She doesn't. 

Okay, sure, she finds the commercialization of the season slightly nauseating, and the constant, repetitive music kind of drives her up the wall, the idea of spending time with family and reconnecting is laughable at best and just _very_ sad at worst. And traffic is just _so much worse_ on weekends now, especially in the shopping district…

So she hates a lot of the side-effects of Christmas, sue her.

It’s not the actual holiday she hates, really. Just all the over-wrought drama and hype leading up to it. Truth be told, Lena actually rather enjoys getting a few weeks off between semesters, happy to putter around in the quiet lab uninterrupted by her fellow students (she’s not _technically_ supposed to be there, or even on campus, but when the new science building has your family’s name on it, people tend to look the other way on a few things). And she enjoys the lights, all strung up through the city and all over campus. She likes the almost palpable campus-wide sigh of relief the moment the final test is finished, even the bustle of everyone frantically packing last minute to catch flights or avoid a lecture from parents who told them to pack days ago. 

One thing she’s not particularly looking forward to is the end of her Poetry class in two weeks. Which is genuinely shocking, because she’d fought tooth and nail to be allowed to do… _literally_ anything else, to no avail. And it’s not really that she’s developed a deep appreciation for and understanding of poetry- it’s still all _the door was fucking blue_ to her. No, it’s more that she’s developed a deep appreciation for a girl in her class.

But really, honestly, it’s not her fault. Like, first of all, who even looks like that? She’s seen the girl eat in the dining hall- she has no right to.... _ripple_ like that. And the always perfectly windblown hair, and the _eyes_ -god. _God_ , she’s gay. Gay and useless. Every time she sees this girl it's the same story- buzzy, dumb brain. Too-hot, too-tight skin. And this not altogether unpleasant- but _very_ annoying- swooping low in her stomach. Every. Single. Time. 

And of course the girl is clearly passionate about the class, and not in a way that seems try-hard but _genuine_. Dives into the meat of the blandest pieces of poetry and finds something bright and beautiful there, and drags it out for her fellow students (bored and lethargic though they may be) to see.

And of _course_ she’s unfailingly kind whenever Lena sees her around campus; sharing an umbrella with a freshman lost in a rainstorm, pulling off her hat and tugging it down onto a friend who’d been cupping their hands over their ears miserably. She’d even chased after a stack of Lena’s notes one day that got caught by the wind, going so far as to _climb a tree_ to get a page that’d been blown into the branches and presenting the notes with a proud smile (Lena hadn’t managed much more than a stutter of thanks before practically sprinting away. Use. Less.).

And of _course_ she sits next to Lena in their shared class, always shooting her a smile and asking about her day, and listening attentively, and laughing at Lena’s rare and _very lame_ attempts at jokes, and apparently not noticing how completely and utterly _smitten_ Lena is with her, thank god/goddammit.

But in a week, they’ll be as good as strangers again, and Lena really sort of hates that more than she hates ‘ _Frosty the Snowman’_ , which has been playing on repeat somewhere in the depths of the dorm building for _three fucking weeks_.

Whatever. She has a bit of a crush. She’ll get over it. And she won’t miss the way Sam teases her about it whenever Lena does something stupidly moony and lovesick.

Especially since she cannot, for the life of her, remember the girl’s name, and she’s too fucking embarrassed to ask. She’s tried everything- sneaking glances at her paper, but _Jesus_ , her handwriting is… possibly not even English, more resembles hieroglyphics. And their professor is _notorious_ for calling people by the wrong names (calls Lena Lisa, Lily, and Laura, actually), so that’s a dead end. And she seems to have about a dozen nicknames, _none_ of which resemble an _actual_ name…

So yeah. Fuck.

Lena’s jarred from her thoughts by the subject of them dropping into the seat beside her moments before their professor steps into the room, slightly out of breath.

“Woo! Thought she was gonna beat me today,” she says with a grin, siding her bag off her shoulder and shrugging out of her snow-damp coat and scarf. When it drops to the back of the chair, Lena catches a whiff of wet wool and citrus and spice. (And that’s another thing- who gave this girl the right to just… smell like that?). She takes off her beanie, shakes out her hair with her fingers, and _thank god_ Sam and Jack aren’t in this class, because Lena knows her a fact she’s staring like a moron. “How’s your day? You ready for finals?”

“Good, It’s good, I’m good, studying is… good,” Lena blurts, mentally slapping herself because _what the fuck was that?_ “How are you?”

But the girl just smiles again, big and bright and beautiful at 8 AM on a Thursday. “I’m good! It was the last night of Chanukah last night, so I hung out with my sister and her girlfriend. They’re so cute it’s disgusting,” she laughs.

 _‘Girlfriend. Girlfriend! Sister has a girlfriend, she thinks they’re cute!_ ’ Lena’s traitorous goblin brain crows.

She smiles. “I’m glad you had fun. I’ve never done Chanukah.”

“Oh, it’s always a blast! Usually we’d try to go home for a weekend, but Jeremiah told us to just wait for break so we can do our usual big Chrismakah thing. I’m really excited to get home. How about you? What’re your plans for break?”

_‘Shit. A question without a yes or no answer.'_

“Oh, um, just a quiet thing, I think. My family is overseas, and we don’t really do much for the holiday, anyways, so I don’t want to bother th- I’m just going to stay here. Get a jump on next semester.”

Her brow furrows. “But-”

“Wake up, slackers! Time to pretend to learn!” Professor Grant calls sharply.

The girl straightens up in her seat, eyes brightening with focus as she offers Lena a smile, one which she hopes she returns without it being a grimace.

Fuck, but she hates poetry…

When the lecture draws mercifully to a close, Lena lingers a bit as she packs up her bag, as has become habit this semester. Well, in this class, anyways. 

The girl chatters away happily about whatever poem they’d discussed that day, and Lena just sort of nods along noncommittally, because the girl dropped her pen and is on her hands and knees trying to get it from under the desk behind them, and Lena is _vaguely_ envious of the floor, and-

_‘Nope! Nope.’_

“...so why don’t you come? It’ll be fun!”

_‘Wait, what?’_

“Uh-”

The girl’s face falls a bit, but she recovers most of her smile as she pulls on her hat and coat. “Sorry! Sorry, you don’t like, _have_ to, I don’t wanna pressure you, or anything. I just thought, since you’re gonna stay here for break, and all, that you might want to, y’know, hang out and relax before finals. But it’s- sorry, it’s probably dumb, and I bet you’ve got a million other plans already because it’s such short notice, and-”

“Yeah. Yes, um, I’d… Yeah. Let’s hang out.”

The girl stops mid-ramble and if Lena thought she’d seen her smile _before_ , it doesn’t hold a candle to the wattage of the one she wears now. “Yeah? You wanna come?”

_‘No. No. Too easy.’_

“I’d love to come,” Lena says.

_‘Still too gay!’_

“Great! Here, lemme see your phone.”

 _‘Aha! Her name! You’re gonna get her name!_ **_Give her the phone_ ** _!’_

Lena unlocks it and hands it over wordlessly, watching with ill-disguised excitement as the girl types in her name and number.

“Okay, great! I sent myself a text, so now I have your number. I’ll text you later, give you the address, okay?” the girl says, handing it back over.

“Uh, yeah, sounds-” Lena clears her throat a bit, hoping her ridiculous voice-crack had gone unnoticed. “-sounds good.”

The girl beams at her, waves, and turns on her heel to hurry out of the classroom, muttering, _“Shoot, dang, heck!”_ as she goes, and _Jesus Christ_ , why is she cute? Why?

Lena sighs at her own mooning and looks down at her phone. “Well, at least I have her name, now.”

She scrolls to her messages, and meager as they are, she finds the new addition quickly.

Poetry Nerd 🤓   
  
**TODAY** 9:46 AM    
This is me   
  


“God- _fucking_ -dammit.”

***

Sam is… less than helpful.

“You useless lesbian,” she hoots. “She asks you out and you’re too busy staring at her ass to notice.”

Okay, so maybe Lena shouldn’t have mentioned that, if only for the sake of her dignity. 

“I… I have no defense against that,” she admits.

“Duh. So, what’re you doing?”

Lena shrugs helplessly. “No idea. She said she’d text me an address…?”

“Netflix and chiiiill!” Sam whoops, drawing the attention of several people on the quad.

“Shut up, Sam. I doubt that’s what’s happening,” Lena huffs, shoving at her friend and gratified to see that she actually makes Sam stumble sideways a bit. “She doesn’t seem the type.”

“Uh, everyone’s ‘the type’ if they might get to bang you.” Sam says, throwing an arm around Lena’s shoulder consolingly. “I’m _really_ sorry to be the one to tell you this, babe, but you’re hot.”

Lena scoffs and shrugs out from under her arm. “Sure, Jan.”

“Oh, honey, trust me. You’re _upsettingly_ hot. Even the whole ‘scattered academic who just rolled out of bed’ thing you’ve got going on is just… _whew_ . If I weren’t happily cuffed and was capable of thinking of you as a sexual being, I’d be _all_ up on you.”

“Your objectification is as flattering as always,” Lena drawls. “And at some point, you’re going to have to let me meet your girlfriend. I’m starting to think she’s of the ‘You can’t meet her because she lives in Canada’ variety.”

This time it’s Sam that shoves her. 

***

Poetry Nerd 🤓  
  
 **TODAY** 12:07 PM   
hey! so it’s gonna be a little later than i thought  
  
probably around 8ish?  
  
hope that’s cool?  
oh gosh, now i’m blowing up your phone sorry my sister always tells me i need to chill i’m normal i swear aaaaaand still doing it. sorry sorry done now crap i didn't give you the address. 6257 hope st

Lena snorts indelicately as she reads the rapid-fire texts.

Poetry Nerd 🤓   
  
**TODAY** 12:09 PM    
6257 Hope. 8 PM. Got it   
  
thank you for ignoring my babble   
  
this will be fun! don’t forget, ugly christmas sweater party.   
  
only the truly ugly ones are allowed in, just fyi!!!   
  


Lena blinks, rereads, blinks again.

The text doesn’t change.

Oh god. She hasn’t agreed to a _date_ . She agreed to go to a _party_ . An _ugly sweater party_.

_‘Okay, be cool. You can get out of this. You have a whole day to think of an excuse.’_

Poetry Nerd 🤓   
  
**TODAY** 12:10 PM    
really happy you decided to come! see you tomorrow!!!!!   
  


Oh. Well fuck.

***

No.

“No,” Lena declares, shrinking away from the sweater.

Sam huffs at her tiredly. “Don’t be a brat. I went to like, seven stores and this is the only one I could find that wasn’t like a 4XL.”

“ _No._ ”

“Lena, do you want to go to this party, or not? Because I went last year, and I remember them _actually enforcing_ the ugly sweater thing.”

Lena groans. “Fuck. Fine. God, this is the _worst_ sweater I’ve ever seen. Why is there so much glitter?”

“Oh, don’t worry, it lights up, too,” Sam assures her.

“Jesus fuck.”

Lena _hates_ this sweater.

It’s cheap and it’s itchy and it’s _hot_ , but as she approaches the large house the address led her to, she does, indeed, see a bit of a line outside the door, and everyone appears to be similarly outfitted. So yes, she looks and feels like an idiot, but at least she’s not alone.

She slowly winds her way to the front, flashing her ID (and, reluctantly, her sweater) and being given a green paper bracelet before being ushered inside.

It’s total chaos.

People are everywhere- leaning on walls, draped over furniture, Standing shoulder to shoulder everywhere she turns. Her plan to simply leave her coat on all night may stall out before it can even get underway.

And along with all the people, the noise level is fucking cocaphonus. There are at least three different christmas carols playing at a high enough volume to shake the damn walls, and everyone is so _loud_ to compensate for it that Lena feels suddenly very, very small.

She manages to shoulder her way through the crowd and finds an expansive (if a bit dingy) kitchen, where only a dozen or so people are lingering, heaving a sigh of relief when she has the room to _breathe_.

Poetry Nerd 🤓   
  
**TODAY** 8:47 PM    
Hey, I'm in the kitchen   
  


“It’s crazy out there, huh?”

She turns to see a guy seated happily atop the counter, sipping from a red cup and fixing her with a friendly, albeit glassy-eyed, grin. “A little yeah,” she agrees ruefully, sliding her phone into the back pocket of her jeans.

“Yeah. I went up to my room a while ago, and there was an orgy in there, I think.” His brow wrinkles. “Or… maybe amateur wrestling.” Lena snorts, and his smile widens. He has what appears to be a milk moustache on his upper lip, and Lena decides very quickly that she likes him. “So, what brings you to the madhouse? I haven’t seen you around, I don’t think, unless I missed a set of blurry identical triplets, somehow.”

Lena cocks an eyebrow, smirking a bit. “There’s one of me.”

“Really?” When she nods, he frowns and examines his cup. “Huh. James was right, this is strong 'nog.”

“I got invited by a girl, but, I can’t really find her, so I’m actually probably going to leave.”

His brow furrows. “How long’ve you been here?”

Lena huffs out a laugh. “Five minutes?”

“Oh, man. We’ve clearly made a good impression on you. Did you call her?”

“Texted her, but I doubt shell hear the phone either way.”

He nods sagely. “Yeah. Kara, Lucy, and James are all trying to play their song loudest ‘to establish dominance,’” he says, throwing up air quotes.

“Who’s winning?”

“By the sounds of it? Literally fucking no one,” he drawls. When he gets a laugh out of her, he grins again and sticks out his hand. “Winn Schott, unwitting orgy-slash-wrestling host extraordinaire.”

“Lena Luthor. Nice to meet you, Winn.”

His eyes widen with recognition, and she cringes internally. “Wait, Luthor? As in ‘big fancy science building’ Luthor?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Dude. Duuuuuude. That- I like, that place is _heaven_ , oh my god. When I die, I want heaven to be that science building, but with no other people and a giant movie theater. And also laser tag. Okay, maybe some other people, so I can play laser tag. But I reserve the right to get rid of them whenever I want.”

She lets out a surprised huff of a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Fuck yeah! My junior college had, like, _a_ computer, okay? And then I found out that NCU was getting a fancy new science wing when I transferred, and now… I could die happy, playing in there, hand to god.”

Lena flushes a bit under the wave of praise. “Well thanks. That’s... probably the nicest reaction I’ve ever gotten from introducing myself.”

“Yeah, well, other people suck. That’s why we’re in the kitchen.” For someone who is very clearly drunk, he’s very wise. “Want some 'nog? Lucy spiked it, so it’s… actually mostly rum. But like, eggnog-flavored rum.”

She laughs. “Sure, what the hell.”

He pours them both a generous cup and taps the rims together. _“Clink!_ See, now we’re 'festive' and 'fancy', instead of just 'poor' and 'drunk.'”

Lena almost snorts eggnog out of her nose.

Lena’s girl fails to make an appearance, but Lena doesn’t mind much, finding Winn to be a very fun drinking buddy. He can keep up with her (mostly), and he has several moments of completely deadpan snark that has her doubled over. He’s probably hilarious sober, if he’s still this quick when he’s wasted.

Eventually, a very tall guy with a very short girl on his back wanders into the kitchen, both pouting ferociously.

Winn smiles lazily at them. “She beat you, huh?”

“She _cheated_ , if that’s what you’re asking!” the girl yells from her perch. “Stole those bigass speakers from _your_ room to do it, too, so I expect a little outrage from you, Schott."

"Wow, she braved the orgy? Bold."

The tall guy promptly drops the girl. "The _what_?!"

"Orgy! Or, like, amateur wrestling, is what we're hoping for. But it's probably an orgy. Oh, hey! This is Lena! Lena, this is Lucy and Jimmy, two of my roommates."

Lucy, rubbing her butt and scowling up at Jimmy, offers Lena a wave. "'lo. Wanna help me kill our friend? And then also my boyfriend, since he fucking _dropped_ me on my _ass_?"

"Um."

"Murder is a Level 8 Friendship activity, Luce, don't make it weird!" Winn yells.

The tall guy offers her a sheepish smile and a handshake. "Nice to meet you, Lena. Can I actually get past you, though, since I'm pretty sure Lucy needs ice for her butt?"

"Oh! Yeah, absolutely, sorry."

She scrambles out of the way, but between the _very_ strong eggnog and the much more crowded kitchen, she trips over a pair of feet and careens headfirst toward the floor.

 _'Shit. This is_ really _'gonna hurt..._

Just before what's sure to be a nasty impact, something loops around Lena's waist and back, spinning her around and jerking her to a halt.

"Whoa, there!"

Lena's breath catches, because she _knows_ that voice. She opens her eyes, and sure enough, there's the girl from her poetry class, her face inches from Lena's.

And she's just caught her in a movie-style dip. Because of course she has, because she's clearly been manufactured in a facility to woo idiot lesbians with her perfection.

"Hi," Lena laughs. "I was looking for you."

"I know, sorry, I just got your text, I was taking care of some business with those idiots," she calls playfully.

"You mean you were _cheating_ ," Lucy yells.

"I was no- why is our bag of peas on your butt?"

"Jimmy dropped her," Winn giggles.

"Jimmy!" she yells, starting off a round of good-natured bickering.

And meanwhile, she's still holding Lena a few inches off the floor, showing no sign that she's bothered by either the proximity or strain.

And Lena, well... Lena's drunk, and very gay, and she very rarely gets to be held in a girl's big strong arms, so whatever. She's happy where she is. 

Except, of course, that she still doesn't know this girls goddamn name, because she _heard_ it and then promptly forgot. _Again_. Something with a C? Or a K? Katie? No, that's not right...

"Hey, you okay? You're looking a little flushed," the girl says, eyebrows drawing together over her pretty, pretty blue eyes. So pretty...

_'Shit, fuck, she asked a question.'_

"Yeah! Yeah, um just, a little warm?"

The girl stands them both up and chuckles. And fuck. _Fuck_ , this girl is wearing not an ugly holiday _sweater,_ but an ugly holiday _suit_ , tight-fitting and straining across her biceps and shoulders. It's printed to look like a Christmas tree, and she's... not wearing a shirt underneath, just a matching tree vest. Because why would she wear a shirt? Why wold she ever wear clothes at all with a body this appallingly perfect? "Well, yeah, of course you're too hot, you're still wearing your coat!"

_'Oh, right, that.'That's it. That's totally why I'm too hot. Yes. Excellent work, good job, team.'_

"Here, let me take it for you," she offers. She's wearing a sash. A sash which reads _'Climb Me Like a Tree.'_ Stupidly, Lena turns around and allows her to help take the coat off.

The relief is near-instant, her body going from 'on fire and also full of bees, somehow' to 'warm, buzzing, not dying'.

It does, however, leave her sweater exposed for the first time all night, and her first clue that something is amiss is Lucy's loud cackle from across the kitchen.

"Oh my _god_ , that's the worst sweater I've ever seen!" Winn whoops. "Guys, _guys_ , she- she _has_ to be the winner, right?"

"Seconded," Lucy laughs.

"Thirded! Thirded... hey, Luce, is that right? That sounds wrong," Jimmy murmurs.

"Motion carries!" the girl cries, grinning hugely at her as she grabs Lena's hand and thrusts it victoriously into the air. "The winner - and owner of the best bad sweater!"

The drunks in the kitchen let out a cheer, and Lucy rips a shrill whistle.

"Hell yeah, Lena!" Winn yells.

The girl's grin grows impossibly wider. "So, you win $50. And a bottle of... whatever Winn hasn't managed to find yet."

_"Hey!"_

Lena huffs a laugh and does a little mock curtsy. 

The girl leans in close "You wanna step outside for a sec? It's- I'm not- you just still look a little warm, so..."

"That sounds great."

The weave their way through the throng of people, up the stairs, down a hallway, and then up another set of stairs where they're stopped by a door. She pulls out a key and grins conspiratorially at Lena. "I always make sure to keep stuff locked up when we do parties."

Lena laughs. "I think Winn forgot to lock his room."

The girl rolls her eyes. "Yeah, he did. There's some _weird_ stuff going on in there. He's gonna be annoyed when he has to clean it up tomorrow; I _told_ him to before anyone got here."

Lena chuckles as the door opens, and she walks into what she suddenly realizes is, in fact, a bedroom. She freezes. "I thought we were going outside?"

"We are!" the girl chirps, flicking on the lights to expose a fairly orderly room. "I've got a balcony, see?" She points to a set of french doors on the opposite side of the room. Doors which require walking past a big, soft-looking bed piled with pillows and blankets... Seeing Lena's trepidation, she panics. "Oh, gosh. Crap. You prob'ly think I took you up here to... but no! No, that's, that's not why, I promise. Um, so, usually the porch is super crowded and people, like, smoke out there and stuff. Which is fine! I don't care, as long as it's not _in_ the house, because we kinda need our deposit back at the end of this lease, and I don't smoke and I've never seen _you_ smoking, so I figured you didn't. Aaaaand now I'm babbling again. Crap crap crap." She shoves a hand through her hair, mussing it up and she's turning a rather alarming shade of red. "God, I'm so _bad_ at this. I probably seem like a _creep_ , which is just, y'know, awesome. Totally the impression I wanted to make. _Dang it."_

Lena lays a hand on her shoulder. "Hey! Hey, it's not- I'm sorry. It's fine. You're right, I'd rather not get a face full of smoke, so this is- it's great. Okay?"

The girl freezes, fingers still tangled in wavy blonde hair. "You sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable, or anything, I was just trying to be, y'know. Thoughtful, I guess."

"I'm not. It was- it is. All good," Lena says with a smile, gratified to know that this girl is, apparently, human after all. Feeling bold from the copious amount of rum running through her veins, she reaches up and grabs the girls hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "Thanks for being thoughtful."

If Lena was under the impression that this course of action would make the girl _less_ red, she was sorely mistaken, but she _does_ stop talking so fast, so Lena will count it as a win anyway. She's led over to the balcony, and the first blast of cold air pulls some sort of moan/sigh combination from her that's completely involuntary. _"God,_ that feels good."

The girl clears her throat loudly, dropping Lena's hand and leaning her back against the opposite railing. "Right? I always get too hot when I drink. I mean, I run a little hotter than other people anyways."

"Or a lot hotter," Lena laughs.

"Oh! Um, yeah, maybe a little?" She smiles bashfully before her eyes light on the sweater again. "God, that's... how did you even _find_ something like... _that_?"

"You mean this awful?"

She barks out a laugh. "Kinda, yeah."

"Honestly, I didn't- I was stuck in the library, so my friend went out and got one for me."

"There's just... _so much_ glitter."

"Right?! And, oh! Look!" Lena fiddles with something on the hem of the sweater until she feels it _click_ and her already gaudy sweater becomes a true technicolor monstrosity.

The girl is wheezing, doubled over as she laughs. "Oh my _god_. It's- it's _awful_!"

"I know!"

"Like, honestly, just, like, the stuff on the front would've put you up near the top, but the glitter and the freakin' _lights_? Yeah, you win."

Lena's brow quirks a bit. "Stuff on the front?"

"Well, yeah. The, y'know, phrase on there, and the picture."

Lena looks down, nonplussed. "It just says 'Kiss Me Under the Mistletoe'... and has, like, holly on it."

The girl snorts. "Lena, that, um... that's not holly."

"What? Yes it is, the berries are red."

"Yeah, but holly has, like, spiky leaves, y'know?"

And, indeed, these leaves appear to be smooth and rounded. "Huh. So this is...?"

"Mistletoe," the girl chuckles.

And here's the thing- this wouldn't be a big deal, at all, if what is apparently a light-up image of mistletoe didn't rest directly over her stomach. Her belt buckle, actually.

Which means kissing her under the mistletoe would be...

"Oh no," Lena groans, hiding her face in her hands as the girl tries valiantly to suppress her giggles. "Oh _no_. I'm gonna _kill_ Sam, I swear..."

"So, not an invitation, then?" the girl asks cheekily. "That's disappointing."

Lena lifts her face to glare. "Not funny."

She shrugs, shoving her hands into her pockets and avoiding Lena's eye. "Wasn't really joking."

_'Oh.''_

"Oh."

"I- yeah. Um, I was gonna, like, try to, y'know, be cool, but clearly _that's_ out the window, so yeah. I kinda like you. Like, a lot."

"Like... you want to be my friend, or...?"

The girl huffs out a laugh. "Like I wanna read you poems all the time until I find one you like."

Lena's baffled. _"Why?"_

"Well, um, you're smart, and you're funny when you think no one can hear you, which is the best kind of funny. And you're really nice, from what I can see. And you're pretty. Like, _wow_ , looks-like-a-movie-star pretty."

Lena's about 15 embarrassing shades of red, and she can feel that damn _swooping_ in her stomach again. "Stop."

"I'm serious! Like, Lena, gosh, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," she rambles, running a hand through her hair again and stepping a bit closer. "I've thought so since, like, last year, but I'm kind of an idiot so-"

Lena surges forward, up onto her toes, cups Kara's face, and brings it down to meet hers in a kiss.

It's not perfect; first kisses never really are. There's always a bit of tooth-knocking, or being a little eager with the tongue, or hesitation, or any number of other things. No first kiss is perfect.

But this one comes damn close.

Lena feels a sigh from one of them before strong arms wrap _tight, low_ around her waist, lifting her up off her feet _just_ a little, and her hands slide up into the girl's hair, fingers tangling. Lena doesn't even realize she's being backed up until her shoulders connect with the side of the house. The girl looms over her, and Lena pulls a bit at the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging until she angles her head just right, and-

_Holy. Shit._

The girl _moans_ into Lena's mouth, ducking down a bit to wrap her hands around the back of Lena's thighs and then standing abruptly. Lena's legs wrap around her waist without thought, and she somehow presses in even _closer,_ pinning Lena between her taut body and the cold slats of the siding. Her lips move from Lena's mouth, nipping and sucking a line down her neck, her hands sliding up and gripping _tight_ on Lena's ass, and she rocks her hips up into Lena _just_ a bit, and-

"Hey, Kara, have you seen Winn's hockey stick- _oh."_

The girl- ' _Kara! We have a name!'-_ groans, pulling away and settling Lena on her feet before ducking her head around the door frame. "Why could WInn _possibly_ need a hockey stick right now?!"

Lena chuckles a bit, and Kara- _pretty name for a pretty girl_ \- smiles at her, soft enough that Lena almost doubts the fact that this same girl had had her pressed against the wall and off her feet not a full minute ago.

Lucy shrugs, unapologetic and amused. "Don't know, didn't ask, _very_ excited to find out. So _she's_ the one you've been all gross about all year?"

Kara's ears turn a pretty shade of pink. "Kinda, yeah."

"Well. Good thing you finally figured out her name, huh?"

"Lucy, get out!" Kara yells. Once the door slams, she whirls to look at Lena, apologetic as Lena's ever seen anyone. "I- so look, I am _so_ sorry, I know we introduced ourselves at _some_ point this semester, but I- you're kinda _distracting_ , and I totally forgot your name."

Lena laughs, long and loud. "Don't worry about it." She looks up at Kara, the bright multicolored lights strung along the roof dancing off her hair and in her eyes, looking kiss-mussed and _beautiful_ , and tugs slightly at Kara's _'Climb Me Like a Tree!'_ sash. "So," she drawls, dragging her hands slowly up the smooth satin of the sash until her arms are draped loosely around Kara's shoulders. "is this an invitation?"

Kara's quick, leering grin as she ducks in for another kiss is all the answer she needs.

***

The next morning, Lena wakes up sore, a bit bruised, wearing nothing but a novelty sash (that isn't hers), in a _bed_ that isn't hers, and covered in a truly upsetting amount of glitter.

But it's fine, because Kara is wearing one candy cane sock and nothing else, and has somehow gotten a glitter goatee sometime in the night, and the sight of it makes Lena laugh so hard she falls off the bed, a pouting Kara crawling determinedly after her.

Maybe Christmas isn't so bad, after all.


End file.
